


Adjustments

by aviantyro



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aviantyro/pseuds/aviantyro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult, living without a left arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, hi again! It's only been what? Four months without any updates?
> 
> Well I played Trespasser and it only left me wanting more Dragon Age content so I took it upon myself to write it. Something tells me the emotional fallout of losing one's own left appendage is far greater than what is depicted in-game. So here is my Inquisitor being understandably frustrated about it.
> 
> Critique's apprecianted! Enjoy

The halls of Skyhold stood quiet and empty for perhaps the first time in four years.

It had been a meeting place for leaders of nations, a refuge for the displaced, a center of learning and culture, as well as the headquarters of the most powerful organization in southern Thedas.

For those four years, Josephine Montilyet had called it ‘home.’

But now, as she held a candle to it’s cool granite walls, it felt more like a tomb.

She clutched her robe closer to her body, the warmth that had once permeated the castle having departed along with most of it’s inhabitants.

When the Inquisition had officially disbanded, most had gone back to their families, their lives. Only essential personnel or those with nothing else left had stayed.

As the moonlight streaked through the windows, she could still hear the noise that had drawn her from the relative warmth of her bed. A series of thumps and what sounded like ripping fabric was echoing through the great hall from the stained-glass that had begun to gather dust.

As the enormous doors creaked open, she could see a single torch shining near the training yard. The lone source of light served to silhouette a tall, horned figure bearing a staff, furiously beating the ragged training dummies, letting out the occasional curse and crackle of magic.

“Oh, Maker...” Josephine sighed.

By the time she made it to the training yard, the blows had become erratic, unpracticed, and angry. The stave was used more as a club than as the elegant weapon is was designed to be.

“ _-UPID HUNK OF METAL, WON’T EVEN CUT BURLAP, PIECE OF SHIT-_ ”

Josephine cleared her throat. Hopefully that would also quell her tirade.

Asranda Adaar turned to face the ambassador, face contorted with frustration and rage before faltering when she saw Josephine’s face in the flickering candlelight. “...evening, Josie.”

“Evening? Do you have any idea what time it is!? You should be in bed. Resting. With _me_.”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen agai-”

“No, I do not want to hear it. How many times have you said that to me? How many nights have you slipped out of your quarters to train?”

“I don’t know, maybe six or-”

“Eighteen. Eighteen nights. Eighteen mornings waking up without you by my side, to find you passed out in the tavern, too exhausted to move! Because you insist on hitting and scorching these straw soldiers until you pass out!”

The wind began to pick up, blowing out the candle and forcing them to watch each other through the dim light of a single torch and the waxing moon.

“Josie, you know why I have to do this!”

“No, as a matter of fact, I do not!” Whatever arrogant thoughts had taken root in Asranda’s head, Josephine wasn’t about to be cowed.

“I’m-I’m not-”

“Not _what_? Not sensible? Not thinking? NOT COMPASSIONATE ENOUGH TO REALIZE THAT-” 

“ _I’M NOT A WHOLE PERSON ANYMORE!_ ”

All tension eased out of Josephine’s face as Asranda’s fist clenched.

“I can’t swing a staff, I can barely cast spells, I can’t even write a _fucking_ letter without it looking like chicken-scratch. And I’m supposed to stop the world from ending, _again_? _Like this_?”

“But you know what really get’s to me? What I really hate?” Asranda said.

“I can’t give you a proper hug anymore. I can’t cup your face against mine without going lopsided. I can’t press your back into me at night. When I try, I just wave this fucking stump around like a moron because I’ve forgotten what’s happened to me.”

She scowled at the cold ground, tears welling through angry eyes, unabated. 

The candelabra made a muted _thunk_ as it dropped to the ground. In the span of a moment Josephine was pressing herself into Asranda’s chest.

Muffled sobs came sputtering into Josephine’s shoulder, warm tears streaking down her back. Small hands wrapped around her lover’s back, gently rubbing circles into her tough, gray skin and feeling her gently thumping heartbeat. 

They stood for what felt like hours, letting feelings loose that had been suppressed for far too long. Eventually, Asranda had no more tears left to shed. 

They supported each other as they made their way back into the keep, up the stairs to their quarters. As they settled into the bed, Josephine hugged Asranda close. 

“If you cannot do those things now, then I will help you.” 

“I will help you write your letters, set up a proper time for you to train. I cannot say everything will go back to normal, my love, I'm sorry, but I _know_ they will get easier with time.” 

“And _I_ will hug you, _I_ will kiss you, _I_ will hold you close through the night.” 

"You are whole, and you are loved." 


End file.
